


Acts of True Love

by HamletLaertes



Category: Frozen (2013)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 02:21:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1370371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamletLaertes/pseuds/HamletLaertes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Frozen AU in which Anna dies instead of merely having her memory erased. Elsa's childhood is lost to her guilt and to the fear that grows stronger almost daily as Anna haunts her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I included lyrics to the song "Do You Wanna Build a Snowman" almost directly from the movie script with just a few changes, and I do not own that song, Disney does. 
> 
> I set out to write a creepy one-shot based off a Tumblr audio post presenting the original idea (if anyone can send me a link to that post that would be absolutely wonderful, I haven't seen it for months) but somehow that oneshot grew and became less focused on the horror aspect that was originally the plan, and became more focused on the bond between Elsa and Anna. As I wrote it I just fell more and more in love with the way they still had that sisterly bond even after everything that had gone wrong for them.

She used to run through the halls, even late into the night, singing. It was such a happy sound. I always went to bed early, knowing I’d be woken up soon by that cheerful voice. It was funny how she never seemed to need sleep like I did. No matter, I loved filling the grand ballrooms with snow, with ice, with cold. I wished there was some way to protect her from the sting of winter on her skin, but she bundled up and never complained.

Our parents grew angry, but Anna made eyes at them and they let it go. The ballroom became our personal domain, a kingdom kept frosty even throughout the heat of summer. Sometimes our parents would join us. They did their best to keep our playtimes limited to daylight hours, but Anna loved the night. There was no reining her in. It was a pointless fight and Mom and Dad knew it. They gave up soon after.

Anna loved the sky. I still remember the first night she snuck out of bed to coerce me into making snow for her. In the front hall, standing before the huge window overlooking the frozen lake and the hills laden with winter snows, she dropped to her knees.

“The sky’s awake, so I’m awake.” It scared me that first time. She didn’t sound like the sister I loved. She was quiet, a rarity, but there was something haunted, something frightened, in her voice. Then she said it again, and her usual loudness and excitement broke through. It became her favorite saying. I forgot about that first night for some time. It wasn’t until I heard her speak those words to me again after the accident that I remembered that moment in front of the window.

“Do you wanna build a snowman?” she sang to me on a daily basis. That was all I wanted. To make my sister happy. To build snowmen that lit up the night for me like the stars did for Anna. 

The happiest night of my life was that first night, when I discovered I could use my powers for fun. Anna and I built a snowman. We named him Olaf. He liked warm hugs, warm sun, and warm fires. I wasn’t used to the long shadows of the castles at night, but Olaf the snowman kept the fear at bay. He became a permanent fixture, a staple in our games and an anchor for me when the dark crept in the edges and corners of our perfect paradise.

The dark wasn’t the only thing I feared. My powers were growing stronger, and I was afraid one day it would be impossible to be around me because of the intense cold radiating   
from my body. 

My powers killed my sister. We were just playing. We were kids, young kids. I was the older one. The one responsible. Somehow a beam of my ice wrapped around Anna’s heart.   
She was dead in my arms before our parents heard my screams. 

“So cold,” she said. Then her eyes glazed over and she spoke no more. 

“Do you wanna build a snowman?” I sang quietly. Then the tears began to fall.

***

The time after her death is a maze in my mind, a labyrinth of grief and loneliness, fear, confusion, guilt. I wonder how much I didn’t see, caught up in my own personal endless winter. I couldn’t even use my powers. Olaf melted with the rest of the snow in the ballroom come spring; to this day that room is still too soggy to enter. And the mould. Those ballroom doors never open anymore. 

Maybe things would improve if I could just get some sleep. But Anna is a night person, remember? 

“Do you wanna build a snowman?”

***

Mom and dad shut down the castle. The gates were closed, the staff was laid off. The huge corridors and rooms echoed. I didn’t see much of my parents. I was locked in my room, coping with my guilt and grief; they were locked in theirs, coping with their favorite daughter’s death. Coping with the terrible monster they shared a castle with, the monster they once called their child.

When I began seeing strange things, frightening things, they didn’t believe me. 

“Mother, father. I think I can hear Anna. Daddy, I saw a snowman in the hall. Mommy, Anna is here. She’s here. She’s in the castle. She’s here.” 

The first time I saw Olaf, it was likely about six weeks after Anna’s death. I was out in the night, getting a glass of water. The sky was awake. I couldn’t shake the feeling that Anna was awake. In the corner of the kitchen, I saw a white shape. It was a twisted, maimed version of the beloved snowman my sister and I shared. 

“Olaf?” I reached out and touched it. It sagged under my touch, collapsing in a misshapen heap on the ground. 

“Do you wanna build a snowman?” I heard Anna croon, somewhere close to my ear. She was nowhere in sight. 

I ran back to my room and dove under my covers. 

“The sky’s awake, so I’m awake, Elsa!” It was so loud. Her voice was everywhere. I covered my ears but it was in my mind. There was a knock at the door. “Do you wanna build a snowman? Come on let’s go and play. I never see you anymore, come out the door, it's like you've gone away! We used to be best buddies and now we're not. I wish you would tell me why! Do you wanna build a snowman? It doesn’t have to be a snowman. Okay bye…”

This became the song of my fear, of my nightmares. It would begin in Anna’s sweet voice, but gradually a satanic undertone grew as she sang. Finally, my sister’s voice was unrecognizable. Then the song would end, and the silence would be even worse. 

The next night, the entire hallway was filled with mutated Olaf snowmen. I ran for my parents, but the statues were always gone when they arrived.


	2. Chapter 2

The first time I saw Anna herself was on the one year anniversary of her death. When I went to sleep that night the castle was curiously quiet. I was so grateful that I did not question it; I slipped instantly into sleep. I woke up in the ballroom. I think it was the smell of decaying wood and mouldering carpet that roused me, or perhaps it was the wet, soggy flooring pressed up against my cheek. I screamed, but the dark paneled walls seemed to swallow the sound.  


“Anna! Anna!” I called. “Anna, I’m scared!” I don’t know why I thought calling out to her for help would be successful, but I knew no one else was listening.  


“I know, Elsa,” she said. “That’s why I brought you here. I want you to be scared. Because no matter how frightened you are, it’s never as scared as I was when your ice froze my heart.”  


She hadn’t grown at all in the year since her death. For some reason that was the first detail I noticed. She was still small. Still smiling, too. But the innocence was gone from the expression. Somehow, I wondered how many eons of unfathomable pain she’d had to endure over the span of my one year of harassment.  


“Anna.” I paused. “I miss you.” I picked myself up off the floor and walked in her direction. The closer I got, the more the temperature in the room seemed to drop.  


“You miss me?” There was confusion in her voice.  


“Of course I do, Anna.” It surprised me that I was saying these words. But I meant them; I was speaking to my sister, whom I still hoped hid somewhere within this creature.  


Anna looked over her shoulder at something I couldn’t see. Her hands fluttered at her sides, her face, still childishly round, seemed to clear of its cruelty and become recognizable for a moment. Then the moment passed, and I was in hell again.  


“Of course you miss me. As if, Elsa. You know mom and dad always liked me best. That’s why you killed me. You wanted them all to yourself.”  


“You know that isn’t true!” I said, falling to my knees at the feet of the apparition. “It was an accident.”  


“Bad people always have some excuse,” Anna said, kicking my leg lightly with her shiny black shoe.  


“Anna, I’ve been so scared since you left.”  


“You’re so big, Elsa. So grown-up and pretty. You’re almost a real lady now.”  


“I’m not big! It’s only been a year since we were sisters! And how can I grow when you won’t even let me sleep?” I grabbed her skirt and buried my face in the fabric to cover my tears.  


“Stop! It’s not my fault!” She stamped her foot. “You did it, you’re the bad one, not me. I didn’t do it.” A fat tear rolled down her cheek. “Now I’ll never get to be big and pretty like you. And it’s all your fault.”  


“No, Anna, I-”  


She kicked me away, violently, her foot making contact with my jaw. I bit my tongue. Blood ran down the side of my chin as I looked at my sister.  


“I hate you! You and your stupid snow, you and your stupid cold! It’s all your fault, and I hate you!” She lowered her voice. “And I will never, ever go away. Even if you say you’re sorry five hundred times.”  


Then she disappeared. I sat there, crying, blood dripping onto my nightgown, for several minutes, maybe even several hours. Eventually I crawled to the door. I collapsed before I made it out of the room. My parents found me in the morning. They said nothing as they pulled me up from the floor.  


***  


Time passed. I rarely left my room. My conscience could never clear. I was afraid of what I would see or hear if I left. My childhood since Anna’s death was full of shadows, half heard singing behind the door in the night. Snowmen huddling in the corners of my room, disappearing when I looked again.  


***  


The scariest thing about nighttime was its inevitability. I spent my days knowing there was nothing I could do, that night would come and Anna would come back for me. Sleep was a fitful thing. You’d think one would get used to a little girl singing to them, but I never did. Sometimes I woke up to an ice-cold touch, colder even than my own skin, and feel that the life was being sucked from me.  


“Do you wanna build a snowman?”  


“Go away, Anna,” I sobbed, over and over.  


***  


It’s funny how Anna’s death became the new marker of time for me. The years were measured in years since her death. She visited more often after that first night. Though I grew, she never did. Her accusations were stubborn in the way that only a child can be; not that they choose not to see your point of view, but that they are mentally incapable.  


One single night, just one, she broke down and cried in my lap.  


“Oh Elsa,” she said. “I miss you too.”  


The attacks doubled in frequency and severity after that. She never once let anyone but me see. My parents wanted me locked up, but decided it was unfit for the future queen of Arendelle. I couldn’t believe they still had me in line to rule this place when they passed on, but they were steadfast in upholding the traditions and keeping the power within our family. Even I began to believe what they said, that I was nothing but delusional. I would have believed them, but once, Anna bit me and it left a mark for days.  
My parents died at sea when I was thirteen. Anna laughed and laughed. It was an iceberg that sank their ship. Somehow, she blamed me for this too.  


“Maybe if you weren’t so cold, maybe if you could control your power better, ice wouldn’t hurt people so much.”  


She had a point. My power was incredibly sporadic. I could freeze a whole room in a bout of fear. I tried distracting myself from the terror at night by practicing, but the tension created by the singing, the taunting, was too much. I froze the window of the room I used to share with Anna, and it shattered. My parents were gone. I didn’t know who could fix it. The people of Arendelle left me here alone, figuring perhaps I had died, too. The citizens had problems that I couldn’t fix. I was useless to them.  


Now that I no longer had a bedroom, a place of safety, I wandered the halls, trying to hide from Anna. She hunted me with renewed vigour now that our parents weren’t around to catch her. Sometimes, though, I was happy she was there to chase me, to haunt me with her army of misshapen snowmen. It kept the silence at bay; gave me something to think about other than my isolation and grief. When Anna wasn’t around, I was the only one from my family left, and that thought scared me almost more than she did.  


When I couldn’t hear her, I let my powers run free. I didn’t have to think to cloak an entire hallway in icicles. When they melted in spring, even more of the castle fell into ruin. I was lucky it was so big; lucky that I always had somewhere to escape to from the mould and damp. But there was nowhere to go to escape Anna.


	3. Chapter 3

Finally, one night, chased to the front hall and cornered there, I did something I hadn’t considered before. I was backed up against the dark wood, and my hand found the doorknob. Anna was getting closer and closer. As terrifying as she was, I’d never had the bright idea to leave the castle. I thought that if I stayed here, Anna would keep her wrath confined within these walls. But she kept advancing, and I didn’t want to die. So I turned the handle. The cold air blasted in, stirring my filthy, ratty dress around my ankles.  
“Elsa?” Anna asked. “Wh-where are you going? It’s so cold out there!” I left her standing in the hall, surrounded by her twisted snowmen.  
The town was quiet. I briefly wondered if the entire village had fled to find somewhere safer. The streets were dirty. Litter; old cloth and broken wood, piled up in doorways. It did indeed seem that these people had abandoned their useless child ruler to be devoured by this empty town. But then there was a flicker of curtains at a window. Thin faces looked out.  


This town was in ruin. I couldn’t save myself, let alone them. Would they even listen to me if I gave an order? I couldn’t let them see me, couldn’t let them see this mess that was their princess. I was useless; I’d abandoned them to face the problems of a kingdom alone. They governed themselves. I ran across the lake. Though it was springtime, my footsteps left stars of ice as I ran. I sprinted for the trees, running until I couldn’t see any of the town. There, I curled up against the bole of a tree. A soft cushion of snow formed beneath me, cradling me in ice as I fell asleep.  


***  


There was something warm and wet on my face when I woke up. For a moment, I didn’t dare open my eyes. I was sure I was back on the damp carpet of the ballroom, though the light was too bright. Then the wet thing licked all the way up the side of my face and I opened my eyes. I was momentarily baffled by the sight of a reindeer, tongue wagging out the side and dripping onto my face.  


“What is that, Sven?” I heard a boy’s voice ask from further away. I sat up, backing myself up against the truck of the tree. A blond boy stepped into view. “A girl?” he said in surprise, catching sight of me. “H-hi, I guess,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He stopped walking towards me. “I’m Kristoff.” He extended a hand, seeming to forget he was still quite a ways away. Realizing this, he stepped forward and extended his hand once more, leaning down so he was closer.  


His hand was warm and surprisingly rough. I stood and brushed stray snow off my dress. Kristoff continued to stand off to the side. It looked like he was speaking through the corner of his mouth to his reindeer, but he stopped immediately when I fully faced him. I turned and began walking back to the outskirts of town. The castle might be a hell, but it was my castle and there were no strange boys wandering around reminding me that outside my own world, people lived normal, terror-free lives.  


“Hey, wait,” he said. “What’s your name?”  


I stopped. “I am Princess Elsa of Arendelle,” I said. The name sounded strange. It was easy to forget about being a princess when all my clothes were ripped and getting too small, but I had to look the part, so I stood up straighter and pushed my shoulders back. For the first time in forever, I felt slightly in control of the situation. “And I have to go back to my home.” My strides grew in length as I felt an unfamiliar sense of purpose. At the top of a little hill I could see over the lake, still cloaked in morning mists. Tendrils of fog, not yet dissipated by the heat of the barely rising sun, crept up the spires and along the walls of my city. The veil hid all the ugly decay and damage; looking upon it from this angle it appeared that Arendelle was a perfect, storybook kingdom with nary an ill to trouble it. Perhaps it was that illusion that allowed me to think I could march right back into the castle, sort out my troubles with Anna, and be a good leader of my people.  


I did not turn to see what the reindeer and his boy would do; I simply kept walking towards the lake. Sleepless nights had made me forget how much I adored the morning, the quiet sleepiness of it all, the loneliness that wasn’t quite loneliness but was instead a quiet solitude. The sensation of being at peace with ones’ self and the rising sun. Murmurs to the reindeer assured me that Kristoff was still following me. I wondered idly if he lived in Arendelle; I wondered what he was doing out here in the cold, alone with a reindeer. It was very strange. But if princesses can be chased from their castles to sleep in the woods, so could a possibly crazy young boy. I slowed my pace just slightly to allow them to catch up, and peeked at him. I hoped he wouldn’t notice.  


He wasn’t that young, not really. He might have been about my age, almost fifteen. We were nearing the shore of the lake.  


“You know, you could start turning left if you’re planning on getting to Arendelle by tomorrow. It’s going to be a long walk.” I was irritated by the way he stretched out the word ‘long’. I smiled.  


“Oh, I’m not going around. I have a secret. I’m going to go right across the lake. But you’re not allowed to watch, so go away.” My patience was wearing thin. Almost a year of no other human contact had made me unsure of myself, and a princess should never be unsure of herself.  


Kristoff was silent for several moments. Finally he said, “You can’t make me. I’ll go away if I want to and there’s nothing you can do about it one way or the other. So either you hide your secret and walk all the way around, or you show me. Besides, I bet there’s nothing that special about a boat.”  


“It’s not a boat.” But he did have a point, I couldn’t make him leave. “Do you even live in Arendelle?”  


“No.”  


“Where do you live?” I’d thought Arendelle was far away from other kingdoms, and that the nearest one was closest by sea. Kristoff certainly hadn’t swum here.  


“With my family.”  


“That’s not a place.”  


“That’s none of your business.”  


Since there was nothing I could think of to say and nothing I could do to remove him, we walked on in silence until we reached the lakeshore.  


“Alright, princess, what are you going to do now?” I didn’t like the way he said the word ‘princess,’ either. He had such an annoying way of speaking.  


“I’ll show you,” I said. I stuck one foot out over the water, pausing for effect, but Kristoff didn’t seem impressed. So I stepped down. This time, I concentrated. Instead of little stars forming directly under my feet, I froze the whole lake. The whole thing, right to the edges. Even I was a little surprised. I’d never let it go and frozen something so huge. It felt good. I stepped back and faced Kristoff, crossing my arms. I couldn’t help but smile as his eyes widened in wonder. Then his face lit up.  


“Sven! It’s ice!” he said. Then, bafflingly, in a different voice, he said “I can see that, silly.” Before I could question this he was out there, sprawling against the cold surface.  


“Ice!” he yelled. Then he seemed to remember that I was standing there. “Ice?” He stood slowly. “How did you do that?!”  


“My secret,” I said. Curiously, I didn’t know what else to tell him. I realized then that I didn’t quite know how I did it. It just happened. But there wasn’t time to think about that.  


“What else can you do?”  


“Go away, I’m not some kind of carnival freak.”  


“I never said you were, but this, this is amazing.”  


I decided that Kristoff was weird. “You’ve got a thing for ice?”  


“A thing!? Ice is my life!”  


He was weird, but then again so was I. I’d frozen an entire lake with my foot and he wasn’t asking many questions, so I decided to let his strangeness go.  


“Alright you’ve seen my secret. I’m going home now.”  


Kristoff squinted across the ice at the castle.  


“Is it made of ice? Your home, I mean. I can’t see too well from here.”  


“No. Then the town would know what I can do.”  


“You think they didn’t notice the frozen lake? Even though it’s early, there are still people awake.”  


“They’re not going to know I did it. Now let’s go before it starts to thaw. It’s warm today.”  


“Look, Elsa-”  


“You can address me as princess.”  


“Look, princess,” Kristoff said, rolling his eyes. “Aren’t your parents going to be worried about you by now?”  


I couldn’t help but be startled. “Haven’t you heard? The king and queen of Arendelle are dead.”  


“Then who’s looking after you?”  


“I can look after myself,” I said.  


Kristoff was silent. I noticed that my footsteps were the only ones to be heard on the ice. I turned and saw he was standing there, alone.  


“Who feeds you?” he asked.  


“My parents had it arranged that a maid would bring food to the door once a month. I assume they paid her very handsomely, because she still comes even a year after their death.”  


“Princess, I’m really sorry…”  


“It’s fine.” I could hear that Kristoff had resumed walking behind me. “I thought you didn’t live in Arendelle. And aren’t your parents worried about you?”  


“My family is a little more… what’s the word? They’re not very strict.”  


“Lenient?” I said.  


“No I don’t think that’s it. Anyway, they’re used to me being gone for a bunch of days.”  


“But where are you going to go? Why are you still following me?”  


“I’d like to see the castle,” he said.  


“It’s really ugly up close. It’s all falling apart. The inside is even rotting.”  


“Then why do you live there?”  


“Where else am I going to live?”  


His response was drowned out by a piercing shriek.  


“Elsa!”  


It echoed off the ice and seemed to surround us. It was a voice I knew very well. I dropped to my knees and ducked my head. I didn’t know what to expect. There was a huge cracking sound as the ice began to break.  


“I’ve found you now Elsa. It doesn’t matter where you run off to. I’m always going to find you if you try and run away from me. You can’t run away from me. We’re sisters.” The air felt heavier. Her presence was all around us, solid and oppressing. Kristoff was looking around for the source of the voice. He’d moved closer to his reindeer and was clinging to its fur with white knuckles. Then the voice and the heaviness in the atmosphere were gone.  


“What happened?” Kristoff still clung to Sven. “What was that? How did it know your name?”  


I couldn’t bring myself to stand again. Tears ran through the cracks between my fingers and landed in front of me.  


“Didn’t you hear her?” I yelled between sobs. “She’s my sister. Now get away from me before she comes back!”  


Then Kristoff was there. His hand was on my back. “Why…?”  


I furiously brushed his hand away and stood up. “Just leave me alone!”  


As soon as the words were out of my mouth, there was a thunderous crack. The ice was splitting, breaking into huge chunks. I was thrown into the air by the earthquake-like motion, and I landed sprawled on the ground.  


Kristoff grabbed my hand and dragged me in the direction of the city.  


“Let me go!” It was no use. I was forced to stagger along behind him as best I could. He lost his grip on my hand as a fracture formed between us, but at that point I was thinking the same thing he was. We had to get off the ice.  


The reindeer was thrown to the side by another huge shift in the ice floes. My heartbeat stuttered as it leapt for the next chunk and almost missed.  


“Sven!” called Kristoff over his shoulder. The reindeer scrabbled and managed to pull itself forward enough to be safe. “Princess! Get on Sven’s back!”  


The ice continued to shift, but the reindeer managed to get to me. It knelt down while I hastily threw a leg over its back. As soon as I was stable, the reindeer took off in the direction of Kristoff. I very nearly fell off of the animal as another crack of breaking ice split the air.  


As we ran beside Kristoff, he used Sven’s antlers to pull himself up.  


“Hold on,” he yelled over his shoulder. I wrapped both my arms around his neck. “Not there, I can’t breathe!” he said, his voice muffled. I moved my arms to his waist.  


It seemed like it took forever, but eventually we collapsed at the harbor. There was a small crowd gathered there, citizens roused from their daily tasks by the noise of the ice breaking up.  


“I can’t stay here,” I whispered to Kristoff. “I have to go. Don’t follow me. Just get back to your family. Be safe.” I got up to run but he grabbed my wrist again.  


“You can’t do that! I’m the princess! Guards!”  


But no one in the crowd of onlookers moved to help me. The people began to disperse.  


“Help!” I shouted again. But the very few remaining people just stepped back a bit.  


“Did you lie to me?” Kristoff asked. “Are you really a princess? Princesses have subjects. These people aren’t your subjects. They’re not obeying you.” He scratched his chin. 

“And your dress is all ripped and stuff too. You’re just some kid.”  


“I am the princess!”  


“Look, I don’t care if you are or aren’t. You froze the entire lake. You’re clearly something special. You don’t have to lie to me.”  


Suddenly I was so weary. “I didn’t lie. I have to get back to the castle before Anna yells again and the whole town hears.”  


“You’re going back to the place where that ghost is?”  


“I don’t have a choice. She’s my sister. As long as I’m there she’ll keep her horrors confined to the castle.”  


“Is that why you don’t leave?” Kristoff asked.  


“If I leave, she’ll find me anywhere, as she proved earlier today. I can’t go anywhere because I don’t want to bring her after me, out into the world where there are other people. I have to get back to the castle.”  


Kristoff released my arm.  


“Bye,” I said. “Thanks. Thanks for being nice to me.” He didn’t reply, so I walked off down the street.


	4. Chapter 4

The castle door was still slightly ajar when I got there. I was lucky the darkness and the atmosphere of fear that this place exuded was enough to keep intruders away. Although it didn’t really matter if the door was locked up tight when most of the windows were broken anyway. I closed the door, much to the chagrin of the creaky hinges. 

Back in the castle. Back in this prison. I wondered briefly what would have happened if I’d run away, but of course there was no use in that, so I pushed the thought from my mind. 

Being back here was exhausting. My future pressed down on me, a lifetime of this dismal place with nothing but fear and guilt to keep me company. I was so weary, so tired. Then there was a knock at the door. 

“Princess?” 

Under any other circumstance I wouldn’t have opened the door, but I was worn down by the thought of spending the rest of my life alone here. So I let him in.

“I guess you can call me Elsa. But in public you can call me ‘your majesty’. 

Kristoff bowed. “Your majesty. It suits you. I guess you didn’t lie.”

“No, I didn’t.” Suddenly I wished I had. I was embarrassed for the gross condition of the castle, the sagging tapestries and threadbare carpet, the stains on the walls. It had been decaying long before my parents died. After they lost Anna they stopped caring. Or were they, too, afraid of her? Or me? Kristoff stepped in the door. Sven trotted right in after him.

“Nice place,” Kristoff said. I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “So it’s a bit of a fixer upper. No big deal.”

We ended up sitting in the courtyard for most of the day, talking. I learned that his family was rather large and lived out in a clearing in the forest, independent of everyone else. 

The way he spoke of them was so foreign to me. I wondered what it must be like to have a family that loved you as much as Kristoff was obviously loved. The differences between us were so great that by the time the sun set, I felt even lonelier than I had before. We shared a quiet supper of bread and carrots. To my disgust, he allowed his reindeer the first bite before finishing the rest of the carrot. 

“You should go back. There’s nothing good in this castle.” 

“Well it’s getting dark. I was actually going to sleep just outside, if that’s alright.”

“Outside the castle?”

“Yes?”

“Is it that horrific you can’t bear to spend a night within these walls?” My instinct to keep him safe from Anna’s terror was warring with my desire to share this burden with someone, to not be alone for once when the nightmare began. 

“It’s not that. I just didn’t think you’d want a random stranger sleeping in your house. And yeah, I’m a little scared of that sister of yours. What is she?”

“She’s some kind of ghost, I think. I’m not sure. She’s dead.”

“I gathered that.” 

“And I don’t care if you sleep in the castle. It’s your funeral. Anna won’t be happy.”

“Can Sven come too?”

“I guess so. It’s dirty enough in there already.” 

“Hey, what’s that over there?” Kristoff pointed to the corner of the courtyard. “That wasn’t there earlier.”

The blood in my veins turned to ice. 

“It’s a snowman.”


	5. Chapter 5

We hurried inside after that. There was one bedroom that I hadn’t destroyed by freezing, and we hid in there. Sven immediately curled up against the door. 

“He’ll keep out any intruders,” Kristoff said. If only I could be so sure. 

The first thing Kristoff did in was to walk over to the fireplace and pull two stones out of his pocket. There was still wood behind the grate, as if someone else was going to walk in here at any moment. Night poured in through the window. The room was high up in one of the towers, the view over the city was spectacular. The setting sun filtered through the surrounding mountains and crested the rooftops. A very small portion of the village lights were on. It really did seem as though much of the population had left. I closed the blinds against the darkness. 

Kristoff was smacking the two rocks together over the wood. 

“I need some tinder.”

I tried to look as though I knew what he was talking about, but I didn’t. “You know,” he said, “stuff that catches fire easily to light the wood.” 

“Oh.” Kristoff walked over to the bookshelf and started pulling off books at random. I wanted to say something, but I didn’t see the point. I sat on the edge of the bed and put my head in my hands. “She’ll be awake soon.”

Suddenly a fire flared up in front of Kristoff. The room was flooded with more warmth than I had known in so many years. I ran to the fireplace and thrust my hand into the orange glow, just in front of the flames. 

“Woah there,” Kristoff said. He pulled me back from the blaze. “You’ll burn yourself.” 

“It’s just so warm.”

“It’s… fire. That’s kinda what it does.”

“We haven’t had fires here since Anna died.”

“How did you stay warm during the winter?” 

I laughed. “Lots of blankets.” Having perfect tolerance of the cold helped, too

“Why not light a fire though?” 

“I guess I just… I never thought of it. It never occurred to me.” All those nights spent curled up, terrorized by the darkness, and I could have lit a fire. All this time I’d lived in this cold emptiness when I could have warmed myself and brought a hint of life to the rooms. “I never even thought to.” I hung my head. “I could have helped myself but I didn’t know how to.” 

Sven started to whimper at his post by the door. 

“Elsa…” 

***

We passed the night with very little sleep. Anna was furious, but she did not appear in the room. It seemed she was kept away by the fire, or maybe by Kristoff and Sven. Whatever the case, all she could do was shriek in fury at us, a fury that mounted in intensity as she realized she couldn’t reach us directly. Never before had she screamed so loud or reached such a frenzied rage. I was half tempted to put out the fire and run alone into the hall just to stop the yelling, even if it meant I’d have to face her. Kristoff and I squeezed hands tightly, curled up against Sven. The fire roared away. Staring into it allowed me to tune out the screams for a time. Since I was used to her presence, I was able to drift off to sleep for a few hours. When I awoke, Kristoff was still awake, eyes wide with horror. He looked like someone who was losing their mind. 

“Go,” I said. 

“Out there? Not a chance.” 

So we sat there while the storm raged on around us. Finally I got up and peered outside the curtains. It was still night, but the sun was just beginning to lighten the sky above the mountain peaks. 

Sven yelped and jumped to his feet. Water was trickling in under the door. All three of us backed slowly up against the fireplace as a slow thudding began from the other side. 

“Elsa, why are there others here? Elsa, why did you let them in? Elsa, I don’t want them here.” The thudding grew louder. The two small fists of a young girl could never produce such a racket, and I could tell that Kristoff realized that too. He was so pale. I saw him grab a fire poker from the hearth behind him, curling his fingers around the iron. 

Self-defense, another idea I’d never thought of. But Anna was my sister.

“Put it down,” I said through the side of my mouth. 

“What?”

“Put down that poker.”

“It’s the only thing we have to defend ourselves with!” 

“Put it down!” I said, not bothering to keep my voice down. “Now!”

“But why?”

“Just… trust me.”

There was a tense moment while the thudding grew louder. I jumped when the poker hit the floor, ringing against the stone edge. The thudding stopped.   
“What are you doing in there?” Anna asked. “I’m coming in.” There was one final thud, and the door splintered off its hinge. 

She stood in the door frame, absolutely still. There was no sign of the Olafs; my sister was alone. A little girl with two tiny orange pigtails, dressed in a clean green dress, her face screwed up as though she were about to cry. She looked like any normal child, and yet for years I’d been more afraid of her than of anything else. But now, with the fire at my back and the promise of dawn about to break, with Kristoff and Sven beside me, I was not alone, and I was not afraid. 

“Go away, Anna,” I said. There was a calmness in my voice that I was not used to; an authority. Anna’s mouth opened in surprise, but I cut her off. “I said go away.”

“But Elsa –” 

“Go. Away.” She crumpled to the ground. Underneath the victory I felt was a desire to run to her side, to pick her up, to comfort her. But then she screamed. 

The Olafs poured past her into the room. I was knocked down almost instantly. I couldn’t count how many there were; I covered my face as they trampled into the room. Beside me, I could hear sounds of struggle from Kristoff, who seemed to be faring better than me. 

“You’re creepy,” he said, no sounds of fear in his voice. The poker was lying not far from my arm; I grabbed it and began beating frantically at the snowmen. They stopped moving suddenly, and Anna spoke again. 

“Stand up, Elsa.” Angry and shaking, I did. Anna wasn’t a little girl in a clean green dress anymore. She was in the dress she was buried in. It was white. Back then, at the funeral, she’d looked like a sleeping angel. I’d read somewhere that they sewed a dead person’s eyes and mouth shut before their funeral, and that they filled their mouths up with rags or something. Apparently it was true. It seemed Anna had found a way become a specter of her old body, here in this room. Her eyes were rotted out of their sockets, leaving her closed eyelids sunken into the empty space behind. It couldn’t be real. After all this time, her body could be nothing but bones. She mumbled incoherently against the stitches sealing her mouth before reaching up and tearing her lips apart, leaving a gory red trail across her face, a parody of a grin. She tried to speak, but only white cloth came out. 

Most of the strips she pulled out with her small fists, but when she began to speak again a shred hung just a little outside of her mouth and there was a muffled quality to her voice. 

“Go away,” I said with much less conviction than before.

“You can’t tell me what to do!” Anna screeched. She began walking toward me. I was still holding the poker.

She was about five steps away when I cautiously raised the poker and held it between us.

“Don’t come any closer.”

“I will. You’re not the boss.” 

“I’m not the boss of you, but I am the boss of me, and if you come any closer to me I will defend myself.”

“You’re such a mean sister, Elsa!” Through the rotting vocal chords, that little-girl’s voice Anna spoke with was rough and deeper; it was the voice of the spectre, not a child.

“You’re not my sister.” 

“What? Yes I am!” She stomped her tiny foot. “I am!”

“No you aren’t. My sister would never scare people. She had a big heart and she knew how to forgive. You’re just a ghoul, and all you do is hurt people! Anna loved making new friends, but you stay cooped up here in this castle, never letting anyone in who might dilute the festering dark atmosphere you’ve created. You’re not Anna. You’re a monster.” 

Anna tugged on her frayed pigtails. “That’s not true!” 

“It is!” Then, very timidly, I extended the poker until it was just touching the fabric of her dress. 

“Go away Elsa! Put that down!”

Ever so slowly, I pushed it just a bit forward, until I felt the resistance of her stomach through the cloth. Anna stopped yelling, stopped tugging her hair. She stopped everything. The Olafs that had been shifting restlessly from foot to foot behind her tumbled into shapeless heaps of snow and began to melt. Kristoff had his back pressed against the fireplace, and I could see in my peripheral vision that he was sucking his ribs in, holding his breath. Sven stood beside him, still as the stones in the wall. 

I began to worry that I’d wounded Anna with the poker, that I’d pushed too hard. No stain of read appeared on her filthy white dress, though, and I could still hear the rough sounds of her breathing, which was accelerating rapidly towards hyperventilation. 

“Go away, Anna,” I whispered. Her eyes focused somewhere behind my head, and I realized that it was morning. The pale, greyish light burned away all of the rot, all of the decay. When Anna was completely awash in the glow, she looked back to me.

“I hate you.” The window shattered behind me. I jumped and whirled around in surprise. When I turned back, Anna and her snowmen were gone.


	6. Chapter 6

I stopped seeing her after that. She still sang to me in the night, there were still snowmen in unexpected places, but I could tell Anna was shaken; she was afraid to show herself. That’s what I thought. Never mind that I was wrong, in the end, but that’s what I thought. It gave me confidence. Kristoff visited frequently. He passed on the message from his mysterious family that they wanted to meet me, but of course I couldn’t do that. Anna had backed off, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t still panic and lash out if I left. So I stayed, and he continued to visit, and something like peace came into my life. I could live this way, with Anna just quiet background noise, “Do you wanna build a snowman?” 

I even made some effort to clean up the castle, but there wasn’t much I could do. Kristoff noticed, though, and began to help. He was much more skilled than I, and helped to tear up soggy carpets, leaving slightly damp wood beneath. It wasn’t perfect, but some of the smell dissipated, and once the home-improvement was underway I began seeing even more of Kristoff. Sure, he talked to his reindeer, but he was so unfazed by things that had plagued me all my life, looking at the world though a lens of optimism and hope. Having him in my life made me feel a little less haunted. 

When I was sixteen, I was paid a visit by the Duke of Weselton. He seemed immensely surprised when I opened the door at his knock. Had I known it would be him, I wouldn’t have, but Kristoff hadn’t arrived for the day and I was expecting him. 

He brought the news that, since I was still alive despite the ruin of the castle and the near total shut-down of Arendelle, other kingdoms would be expecting a coronation when I came of age. The gates would open, the people of all the other kingdoms would stream in, and I would never again be able to avoid responsibility for the ruin of this town. Then the Duke gave one more sweeping look of disgust at me and the decrepit castle and left. He called one final time over his shoulder that if the doors of the castle did not open on my eighteenth birthday, if there was no coronation, there would have to be a new ruler of Arendelle, a new inhabitant of this filthy castle, and probably a war for it. Then he was gone. 

When Kristoff arrived about an hour later, he found me in a state of panic. How could I open the doors of this castle and let others into this nightmare? How could I become queen and rule this broken kingdom? How could I ever take control of this situation? 

Obviously Kristoff and I couldn’t get this castle up to international par by ourselves in two years. Tentatively, I dipped into my parents’ fortune for the first time and hired professionals. They were a huge team of big, burly men with carriage after carriage full of supplies: paint; wood; tapestries; shingles; window panes; carpets; furniture and paintings to replace what was lost. They were miracle workers; we were lucky to have them. 

Letting them in the door that first day was terrifying. We ensured they kept strict daylight-only hours, and at the slightest hint of Anna we ushered them out early. We were lucky they were so obliging, lucky we were helped considerably by the money my parents left behind. And yet, without Kristoff there to help, to have the confidence to speak to the construction workers, to reassure me when I got scared, I would never have made it through those two years. He brought news from outside the castle every time he came, and our friendship became closer and closer, and I could feel myself distancing from Anna, from fear, and from my personal hell. It was the strangest thing; I was beginning to enjoy living despite the fear. I was, amazingly, happy. 

But the date of coronation was fast approaching. And though the castle was looking royal again, and Anna hadn’t done a single thing while the construction men were there, I worried. The men finished their work three months before the date. The last tapestry was hung, the last despairing chair was replaced, and they were gone. I had gathering dread for that night. 

Anna had been shrieking ever louder as the castle neared completion. She didn’t like the change, didn’t like the way the shiny new floors reflected the sunlight, brightening the rooms. She didn’t like the drapes that were hung and parted wide, allowing a sense of cheeriness into her haven of darkness. She didn’t like the wood that had been stacked neatly into the fireplaces in preparation for guests. She didn’t like any of it, and she was very vocal about that. I could only hide in my room, light a fire, and await the coming darkness as the sun sank below the mountains. 

Not a single noise other than the settling of the practically new castle broke the silence that night. I measured time in my pounding heartbeat, although I now had all manner of working clocks adorning the freshly painted walls. I couldn’t sleep; the silence pounded at my ears with a fury to rival the howling of my sister. Eventually, though I knew it was foolish to leave my fluffy, clean sheets, I climbed out of bed. 

I no longer used my childhood bedroom, nor one of the guest rooms. This castle was mine. I slept in the new master suite. But that old bedroom was where I looked for Anna first, even tentatively calling out to her. There was no response, no echo of singing, and I realized that if I were truly looking for Anna, there was only one place to go.  
The ballroom was restored to, perhaps even surpassing, its former glory. But although it smelled of fresh paint and lacquer instead of mildew and decay, it was not the same room my sister and I had played in as children. There was no special chill to the air or feeling of eyes on me, but I would never be comfortable in this room. I knelt in the spot where I had last held Anna, where she’d died, and stared up at the ceiling. 

“Are you here, Anna?” 

The sound was quickly absorbed by the silence. 

“Anna?” Suddenly I felt the urge to sing to my sister. Though she was a demon ghoul from hell, though I’d been trying to get rid of her for years… I missed her. “Do you wanna build a snowman? Or ride our bikes around the halls? I think some company is overdue; I’ve started talking to the pictures on the walls! It gets a little lonely, all these empty rooms, just watching the hours tick by! Do you wanna build a snowman? It doesn’t have to be a snowman…” The ballroom was still silent. “Okay, bye.”  
I closed my eyes and lay still until I felt tired enough to crawl back into bed. 

The three months to the coronation passed in the quiet of hushed nights with no singing, no screaming, and no yelling. The kingdom of Arendelle itself seemed to have gotten wind of the impending influx of visitors and was cleaning itself up and preparing. The castle received its second uninvited guest with a visit from the mayor of Arendelle, the person elected by the citizens after the death of my parents in a rudimentary democracy to keep the kingdom functioning. He was very polite, considering I, as princess, had let him and the rest of the citizens down. He offered to step down from the position after the coronation, but I had more of a collaborative effort in mind; after all, I knew next to nothing about the true duties of running a kingdom. Everything seemed in order for the big day. 

The eve of the coronation arrived and I was incredibly anxious. Planners had been hired who staunchly refused to close the gates before dark, early evening was the best they could promise, and the events could possibly run later. Of course I couldn’t explain Anna to them, so I could only bite my nails and hope that the quiet peace I had been enjoying would hold out. Not that it especially mattered, what with some guests staying for the night. One party was even staying the week due to travel considerations. I tried not to let that worry me. Perhaps Anna had disappeared with the last of the mould and mildew.


	7. Chapter 7

Everything was ready. Somehow things had pulled together, probably thanks entirely to Kristoff. Food had been ordered and set to arrive tomorrow on the finest dishes, servers had been hired and foreign dignitaries had been invited, and I’d finally finished mastering my powers. There would be no freezing of the coronation props, which was another huge weight off my shoulders. 

Kristoff spent the night, he and Sven (after much washing of hooves so as not to defile the fresh beauty of the castle) curled up on the floor of my bedroom, having staunchly refused any offers of a guest suite. There were some disapproving looks from the full array of staff we had hired, but since he was the one who was brave enough to interact with them they couldn’t raise too much of a fuss. As always, I was grateful for his presence. We talked late into the night, revelling in how all of our achievements had culminated to prepare us for tomorrow. He did not share my worries about Anna making an appearance. My hand was hanging over the edge of the bed and Kristoff held it from his place on the floor. 

“She’s been gone for months, Elsa. We must have exercised her when we got the castle fixed up.”

“It’s exorcised, not exercise. And I feel like she’s gone, but not permanently, you know?”

“No.” 

“Well, I do. She could come back.”

“Hey,” he said, squeezing my hand. “It’ll be alright.” 

I didn’t believe him, so as soon as he and Sven were asleep, I pulled my hand out of his and went to the ballroom. 

“Anna, are you in here?” 

No response, of course.

“Hey… thanks for the quiet nights. Thanks for being cooperative with all these people in here.” I slumped down against one of the walls. “Tomorrow the gates are opening. People are going to be in here. Overnight. Please, Anna… please don’t do anything to them? I’m begging you.” 

I was disgusted with how I sounded. Asking the sister I’d killed to not mess up my big day. Like I had any right to say these things. I was at the door to leave, but I couldn’t without letting her know. After tomorrow, I didn’t know what my life would be like. If I didn’t say it now I might never.

“Anna, I love you. And I’m sorry for all I’ve done to you. I wish there was some way to make it right, but I see that there is no hope for that, so all I can give you are my apologies. I don’t know where you’ve been and where you are now. I don’t know if you can hear me. I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, and I don’t know if I’m happy or sad about that. When you were haunting me, at least I knew where you were and how you were doing, even if you were angry with me. Now, I just don’t know, and I’m worried for you.” I closed my eyes and rested my head against the doorframe. “Please know you’ll always be my sister, no matter what. I won’t forget you. Ever. I love you.” Then I turned and left without looking back. 

It had been years since I’d slept as soundly as I did that night. Then it was morning, and Kristoff was sitting on the bedside, brushing my hair off my face and softly saying, “Wake up, Elsa.” I could barely contain the sudden wave of affection I had for Kristoff, my best friend, probably my saviour. As it was, I sat straight up and threw my arms around him.

“Happy birthday,” he said, rubbing my back. “You’ll do great today. I’ll leave so you can get ready. The guests will be here soon.” He smiled at me once more before closing the door softly behind him. I could hear him chattering away to Sven as they walked down the corridor. My new clothes had been picked out for me by someone we’d hired to stock the house. Thankfully, she’d decided the cupboards were as desperate as the pantry to be filled. But the coronation dress had had to be commissioned from a prominent designer, and it was beautiful. I wasn’t allowed to change by myself, there had to be a procession of attending ladies to fret over me for hours. They pulled my hair into a braided bun so tight I felt the pull of each and every bobby pin. For some reason, the dress didn’t look good enough either until they had pulled each and every tie to its limit. By the time they sat me down to get started on my makeup, I’d had my fill of being queen. 

Half an hour to the opening of the castle gate. I wanted Kristoff by my side, and I ran through the entire castle trying to find him, but he had disappeared. Defeated, I walked to the front hall, where a maelstrom of footboys and maids rushed to their last minute duties. It was there, leaning against a railing, that I saw Kristoff. It had slipped my mind that this morning he’d only had his regular clothes; clean and smelling of the mountains, but not fancy enough for this kind of ceremony. Evidently, he’d planned for that too.

He was wearing a suit. Though he looked awkward and out of place among all these professional city-dwellers, the small effort he’d made to blend in was overwhelming. I ran to his side at once.

“You look great,” I said.

He didn’t immediately look at me, but rubbed his neck awkwardly. I could see a flush creeping into his cheeks. 

“Thanks, I guess. I borrowed it from a page at the last second, gave him the day off in return. I hope you don’t mind. It’s nowhere near fancy enough, but... I can’t believe I forgot to dress nicely for today. I’m real sorry.”

I put my hand on his arm. “Look at everything else you’ve done. Look at this castle you’ve filled and staffed.”

“You did most of it!” he said in protest. 

“You did most of it. You just asked my opinion on everything.”

“Well you were kind of busy with that sis of yours…”

“Thank you, Kristoff.” I leaned up and kissed his cheek. 

The flush of color that had been faint before was crimson now. 

“Well I guess you’re welcome, I mean, I… Wow you look nice.” Now it was my turn to blush. 

“Five minutes, Elsa!” a footman called from somewhere in the melee of staff. I turned away from Kristoff, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

“I know everyone will love you,” he said. “I know you can do this.” Then he kissed my cheek and pushed me towards the big doors. “I’ll see you later!” he called after me. I was shocked and slightly dizzy as I headed off towards the doors. 

***

The coronation was quite the event. After the solemn receiving of the orb and staff (which I am happy to say I did not freeze) and my pledge to lead these people as their Queen, the gathering dissolved into one big, fancy party. Kristoff, who had been in the front row smiling at me during the ceremony, was the first to sweep me off my feet for a dance. Unfortunately he was not the only one. There were dances with fusty old men who barely even swayed to the music. There was a particularly horrific dance with the Duke of Weselton, who jumped and flitted like a pixie on fire. There were dances with fine young princes, but their faces all blend together, except for the face of Hans Westerguard Of-The-Southern-Isles. He had a funny way of saying it so that it all sounded like one word. Hans was handsome, incredibly so, but what stood out to me was that he had a perfect sincerity that the other princes lacked. He was one of the party staying the week, and I looked forward to better making his acquaintance. I danced with my cousin Rapunzel and even her wild thief husband Flynn. I hadn’t seen her since before Anna’s accident; I was happy she was doing so well, evidently quite in love with her prince.   
There was one dance I craved, though, and never got. I wanted to dance with my sister. She should be here, tall and beautiful like the princess she’d always been. It should be her that all these princes focused their attention on, with her wild orange hair and clumsy smile. 

There was a hole in my life where she’d been, and it could never be filled, no matter how much of the aristocracy flooded though these halls, no matter how many princes I met. Now that she had gone, seemingly for good, I was starting to realize that. Realization brought acceptance. I walked out onto one of the many balconies. 

“I told you they’d love you,” Kristoff said, joining me. “And look, the moon and stars are out in full force and there’s no sign of Anna.” He put an arm around me. “You’ve done it. You’ve pulled off this whole coronation.” 

Later that night, after all the short-term guests had left, I snuck back into the darkened ballroom to thank Anna.


	8. Chapter 8

Over the week that he was here, Hans and I became much better friends. At first Kristoff was wary and jealous, but with honesty and amicability Hans soon won him over. The castle was quiet and, for the most part, with Hans, Rapunzel, Flynn, and a few others here, I was surrounded by friends. Hans was a little on the overeager side, getting as chummy with the mayor as possible whenever he visited. This, and only this, made me a little uneasy about him. I was completely oblivious to the more sinister thing taking place in the castle. 

*** The night of the coronation, revisited ***

Hans was unhappy with how the evening was going. He’d seen the way Elsa looked at that big clumsy oaf she danced with first. Then, when he’d finally gotten a chance to dance with her, Hans had noticed how detached she was from him, keeping up the conversation but with her eyes always drifting somewhere else. He hadn’t won her over and stolen her heart like he’d hoped for. 

Then, joy of joys, she’d revealed that she alone was not the ruler of this kingdom, that there was a ‘mayor’ helping her. The concept was unfamiliar to him, but when he asked she explained willingly enough. 

He had all week to woo Elsa. But if it didn’t work he could always ‘offer to help’ the mayor in the event something should happen to their new queen.  
Then there was the most unexpected stroke of luck. He was lying in bed in the lavish guest room he’d been assigned, thinking these dark thoughts, when there was a knock at the door. He waited a few moments before getting up; it was late and he should have been sleeping instead of scheming. He ruffled up his hair and rubbed his eyes, slouching his shoulders a little. A high, girlish hum could be heard from outside, muffled by the door.

“Do you wanna build a snowman?” the voice sang. “Hans, please, I know you’re in there. Open the door and let’s be friends...”

Down in the ballroom, Elsa was singing too. “They say ‘have courage,’ and I’m trying to, I’m right here for you, just let me in.”

The little girl kept singing. Hans put his ear to the door. “We only have each other, it’s just you and me… what are we going to do?”

“Do you wanna build a snowman?” Elsa finished quietly, closing the ballroom door softly behind her. “It doesn’t have to be a snowman… okay bye…”

Hans was frightened. “How do you know my name?” he whispered through the keyhole. 

“Let me in,” the girl replied. 

Hans cautiously opened the door. Standing there was not the child he expected, but a beautiful young woman bearing an uncomfortable resemblance to Elsa, despite her orange hair and freckles. She wore a long green dress with her hair in a bun similar to Elsa’s. 

“Who are you?” Hans asked.

“I’m Princess Anna,” she said. Though she was probably only a little younger than Elsa, her voice was still the high whine of a child. It sent chills down Hans’ spine.

“Princess Anna… died years and years ago. She… was only a little girl.”

“Do you know how she died?” the woman asked. 

“She wandered outside the castle one night. No one knew until morning. She froze.”

“That’s now how Princess Anna died,” she said, her voice low. “Elsa killed her. Elsa, with her power to create ice, froze Anna’s heart. Froze my heart.”

“What are you taking about?”

“I came back,” Anna said, completely disregarding Hans. 

“Why are you here? Why are you in my room?” Hans asked.

“I know you want to kill Elsa and rule Arendelle. I can help you. And then I can make Elsa pay.”

Hans was backed up against the wall, but he put on a brave face and tried to act unfazed. 

“What’s in it for me?”

“I can do lots of things,” Anna said. “I have lots of snowmen helpers. I can make you the king. I can make the people all listen to you.” She smiled slyly. “Wouldn’t you like to be the King, Hans? Wouldn’t you like to show all twelve of your brothers who’s the best?” 

Her childish voice and manner of speaking was completely at odds with her appearance. There was something wrong with her, with this offer, but Hans was desperate. Having a higher power on his side was so tantalizing. 

“Alright,” Hans said. “I’ll help you.” 

So Anna told him her plans. For the rest of the week she visited him again and again, their own goals and personalities melding together until, if one could one speak to both Anna and Hans, it would have been difficult to tell them apart. Anna didn’t know it, and it wasn’t part of her plan, but it was impossible to work in such close contact with a human without some of her own spirit leeching into him. It began to show in Hans over the week as he sank further and further into his dark plans, but Elsa was too busy learning how to be Queen to notice, and she didn’t listen to Kristoff’s warnings. She told him petty jealously did not become him.

Hans began to mistrust Anna’s promises. Her high voice grated on his nerves. He didn’t believe in her anymore. Her snowmen helpers were nothing but ugly and mutated piles of snow that could drag their misshapen corpses and bang their stick arms against doors. They were useless, and so was Anna, but he was full of her darkness and hatred. He formed his own plan one night at dinner to act without Anna, to claim the throne without her help. He was Hans Westerguard of the Southern Isles. He was capable of taking this throne, by force if he had to.


	9. Chapter 9

***Day 7 of coronation week***

The mayor was as helpful as he could be, really, but there was still so much about being queen that I did not understand. Today, the final full day Hans and his party would be spending, the mayor’s lesson had been incredibly dull. I needed air before I could go sit in a stuffy dining hall and probably have to make a queenly speech about how lovely it was to have entertained such wonderful guests for so long. Kristoff had escaped much earlier. If I was having a hard time adjusting to my new duties, he was having an even harder time adjusting to the strain they put on our friendship. He was used to the woods, to coming and going as he pleased, to being able to bring his reindeer into the castle and sleep on the floor. Now, everything had to change. I knew he’d be able to deal with it eventually, but it would take time, and I was terribly lonely while he was gone. 

“Elsa!” I heard someone call. The tone reminded me eerily of Anna, although the voice that spoke was male. I turned to see Hans striding quickly towards me, a genial smile of greeting on his face. 

“Queen Elsa,” I corrected. Friendly as he was, it wasn’t his place to forget who was in charge of this castle.

“Of course, your majesty,” he said, bowing low. “Of course. Could I trouble you for a walk?”

The prince made small talk as we wandered through the gardens, farther and farther away from the castle. At first, I didn’t notice that something was off. His speech was not the refined speech of a prince. It degraded into more childish mannerisms with each step away from the castle, like a façade that fell as he lost interest in keeping it up. I couldn’t help but pay more attention to this than the actual content of his words as my unease grew. This speech pattern was so familiar to me… but why? We were out of sight of even the highest window in the highest turret. Prince Hans was still speaking. 

“See, Elsa? I never really wanted to just visit. From the start, I wanted to take over your throne. My plan wasn’t very good though. I probably would have messed it up, but luckily your sister came to help.”

My palms broke out in a sweat. “My sister?” 

“Anna.” 

“Anna’s dead.” 

“Exactly, that’s why she thought she could help me. But,” he continued, lowering his voice conspiratorially and whispering in my ear. “I don’t think she really wanted me to be the king. So I decided to stop listening to her. That’s why…” he stopped walking, and I turned to face him. “I’m here. I don’t think she can come out in the daytime, so she can’t stop me. I’ll kill you right here, and Arendelle will be all mine. I won’t have to share.” I had a brief mental flash of an ice-covered lake and a little girl’s screams with the daylight shining down a reindeer, a boy, and me. Hans didn’t know everything about Anna.

There was murder in his eyes as he reached for the ceremonial sword that was part of his princely costume. My palms twitched, tingling with unused powers, but I never wanted to freeze another heart. I couldn’t bear to. I turned and ran.

Ironically, fleeing from Anna all those times helped me stay ahead of him for very short while. I was grateful for that run, for the air that I gulped greedily into my lungs as I ran faster than I thought I could. For all I knew, those strangled gasps would be my last breaths. I savored the ache in my legs; it could have been the last earthly sensation I felt. But Hans had longer legs, and he was catching up. Then I tripped. I couldn’t get to my feet in time, and I watched Hans getting closer and closer.

“Anna!” I screamed. “Help me, Anna! I need you!” Hans stopped running, coming to stand over me where I lay crumpled. I was going to die. I’d have to use my powers. “Please step back,” I begged Hans, raising my hands in front of my face. “I’ll freeze you.”

I looked into his eyes and prepared myself. His eyes, eyes that told a story, even if it was a sad, sick story. As I looked at him, my resolve faltered. I remembered what Anna’s eyes had looked like as the life faded from them. Would Hans’ look the same? 

I had no more right to freeze his heart than he had to slice through my neck; no more right to take his life than I had to take Anna’s all those years ago. But this time, it wouldn’t be an accident. The cold building in my palms died before it reached my fingertips. 

He seemed satisfied that I was defenseless, that he would be able to kill me whenever he wanted. No need to rush.

“Oh, Elsa, give it up,” he said. “Maybe your sister would hear you if she were here. Maybe she’d come to your rescue. But she isn’t here, is she, Elsa? Your sister is dead because of you. You froze her heart, Elsa. Your own sister’s heart.” 

“I never meant to. It was an accident. We were just playing; we were so little.”

“Well I guess that doesn’t matter, does it,” said Hans. He positioned the blade over my throat, ready to thrust down and end my life. I squeezed my eyes shut. Anna, I love you. I’ll see you soon, and we can be sisters again. 

I felt the cool steel tip against the pulse in my neck, very gently. It was over. Then there was a scream. Hans was thrown backward. 

“You can’t hurt her!” Anna screamed. “I won’t let you!” Hans scrambled up and looked around in fear for the source of the voice. A deafening boom split the air, and then Anna continued, much more quietly. “You can’t hurt her. I’m sorry Elsa, I never meant for you to get killed.” The voice was soft, as if Anna were standing very near. “It’s so pretty out here,” she said. “All these flowers and butterflies… spring is so beautiful. I forgot.”

Then Anna stepped out from behind a tall patch of heather. “It’s been so long since we played in the garden, hasn’t it, Elsa?” Her green dress was clean; her tiny hand was warm and solid as she pressed it against my cheek, wiping away a tear there. Hans stepped back in surprise as the little girl knelt at my side.

“Anna?” I asked.

Hans stared on in disbelief. 

“Go back to the castle, Elsa.” Anna said. She tugged gently on my hand, and I stood up.

“No!” Hans yelled, stepping forward. “I don’t know what’s going on, but it doesn’t change anything. Arendelle is mine.” He faced Anna, spit flying out of his mouth as he spoke in a dangerously harsh voice. “You betrayed me. I knew it, you little brat! I’m going to make you pay first. Then I’ll get to your sister.”

Hans stabbed forward wildly, but missed as I pulled Anna out of the way. While he gathered his bearings again, I grabbed her hand and ran off into the garden. I wasn’t sure which way led back to the castle, so we ran blindly, crashing through flower beds and topiary walls, trying to find some place to hide.

“I’m sorry, Elsa,” Anna sobbed as she ran. “All the badness I had is in Hans now. He’s never going to stop until he’s killed you. I never wanted you to get killed! I wanted to scare you and I wanted to make you pay… but not to get killed! I thought maybe you’d be even more scared if Hans took over.” I tried to tell her to be quiet, fearing her voice would lead Hans to us, but she wouldn’t. “It’s a curse I guess,” she continued. “I didn’t realize how bad I’d gotten until I saw Hans trying to kill you. I thought I didn’t want to kill you but maybe… maybe I did.” Anna tripped and fell. I scooped her up into my arms and kept running. “I’m so sorry now. But there’s still a curse. I’ll just go back to being as bad as I was, unless an act of true love prevents it. That’s how they said the curse can break. But no one loves me.”

There was no time to ask who ‘they’ were. “I lo – ” I was cut off. I’d stumbled onto another path, and I could see Hans some ways down. He turned; he saw us. It was over; we were now so close to the castle, within view of the windows, but we’d never make it. I couldn’t run anymore. I held tight to Anna and waited for death. 

“Put me down, Elsa,” Anna said. I did, thinking she wanted to distance herself from the sister that had killed her or to run some more. To my surprise, she walked forward to meet Hans. 

“You can’t kill my sister.”

Hans crouched down in front of her. “You really want to save her? You can’t. And with the curse you told me about, no one can save you either. Oh, Anna,” he said, cradling her chin in his hand. “If only there was someone who loved you.”

Her small face puckered. “It doesn’t matter if someone does. I love Elsa.” 

“That won’t be enough to save her.” He grabbed Anna roughly by the collar of her dress and dragged her over. He threw her to the ground at my feet. “Watch your sister die, just the way she watched you die,” he said to her, kicking her in the side so that she gave a little moan. I crumpled to my knees. He raised the sword, and as Anna sat up a little I tried to move her aside. I didn’t want her to see this.

“Goodbye, Anna,” I said. “I love you.”

He thrust the sword forward, a blow that would have struck my neck, but Anna had stood up, raising her tiny hand. The sword touched it, but met with resistance, shattering to the hilt into a thousand shards. Hans was thrown backward by the impact, and he lay on the ground with blood seeping from his mouth. His eyes were closed.

Anna’s hand turned to ice where she’d been struck. She was frozen in her defensive posture as the ice crept down her arm to her fingertips, wrapping around her shoulders and down her waist, up her neck and climbing in tendrils over her cheeks. Within moments, a statue of ice stood where Anna had been. 

She had sacrificed what was left of herself to save what was left of me. It was an act of true love. 

She was free.


	10. Epilogue: The Queen's Address

“People of Arendelle.” I was standing on a raised platform in the middle of the city, surrounded by a sea of townsfolk. My throat was dry. I didn’t know what to say to them to explain away all the years they were left to fend for themselves. “A very long time ago, you were told that Princess Anna had died. You were told she snuck out one night and froze. Well… that wasn’t true.” Now was the moment of my big confession. Kristoff smiled ever so slightly from his place in the crowd. 

“I have the power to create snow and ice, frost and cold.” I carefully extended my hand towards the fountain, freezing it solid in an instant. “It was this power, my power… I froze Anna’s heart. That is why she died.” My throat closed, and I fought down sobs. The people gasped, some even shouted. “Since that day she has haunted the castle. It fell into ruin and darkness as her spirit grew more angry and corrupted. However, the curse is broken now.

“Anna and I were just children. Neither of us could have known what my power was capable of. Now that you know the truth, you have a choice. Should you chose to reject me as Queen, for all the grave misdeeds I have done to you through my neglect, and for the murder of my sister, I will leave this kingdom. You don’t need me. You’ve survived without the monarchy for five years. 

“However, if that is not your choice, if you do not reject me as queen, I will do my best to work alongside your mayor to return Arendelle to the beautiful, prospering nation it was under my parents. There will be no more secrets. That is all. I will return to the castle and await notice of your decision.” I left the square, motioning for my guards not to follow. They, like the rest of the townspeople, should have a say. Kristoff caught up with me a few moments later. 

“I’ve given them my vote.”

“You don’t count. You’re not even a citizen.” But I looped my arm through his.

“I could be. If you stay here, I will too. If you promise to visit my family with me. I can’t hold them off much longer. 

“Well, I guess we’ll see.”

It was three days after the incident in the garden. The statue still stood there, unmelting even in the spring heat. Hans’ body had been removed. When Anna’s spirit was freed from the curse, the part of her soul that had gotten all twisted up with Hans’ tore free. The shock was too much for him; he succumbed at once and died. His companions departed immediately to bring his body home, but of course they had to have the full story before he left. We would have been in very much trouble had there not been witnesses from the windows of Hans trying to kill a little girl. I was afraid of the Southern Isles’ reaction to his death, but that was a problem for another day. 

I went now to the garden with Kristoff to sit by Anna. We passed the day there. Not a bad way to spend what could be my last hours in the castle that was my childhood home. Eventually, though, the enormous ringing of the castle bells broke the moment of peace. The decision had been made.

***

Seven years have passed since that day. Seven years of being Queen Elsa of Arendelle. Of course I am not alone; I married Kristoff after five years of ruling, and met his family. 

They were strange at first, but kind and warm-hearted. I was a bit of a fixer upper, and they understood.

New trade routes have opened up; Arendelle is now quite close economically to the Southern Isles. Weselton officially declared itself bankrupt and became part of Arendelle to help repay its debts. It is now richer than ever. I am sure the late Duke would be quite happy. 

The ice statue of Anna was moved from the garden to a small park in the center of town, where it remains unchanged year after year. The first winter following the events of seven years ago, a field of Olafs sprang up around Anna. Kristoff said they were creepy, but they weren’t the mutilated creatures of my former nightmares. They smiled, some even waving tiny stick arms in the air. I cried when I saw them, and a little girl playing nearby asked me why.

“These snowmen are named Olaf,” I said. “They like warm hugs, and it’s getting cold.”

“Why don’t you hug them then, Queen Elsa?”

So I did, and soon all the children in the park were following suit. When they reappear every year, I’m not sure whether it’s Anna or the other children that make them. I suppose it doesn’t matter. 

I’m expecting an heir soon, a prince or princess. Remembering my own childhood, I am afraid, but I’ve learned to see things differently… hopefully. I remember playing with   
Anna, seeing the joy in her eyes. Childhood can be a time of wonder and complete blissfulness, and it is my prayer that that is what this child will know instead of the fear of the dark.

I still sing to Anna sometimes, although she’s never replied. The Olafs are enough of a message for me. Nonetheless, I sing, not knowing if she can hear. It is enough for me to know that once, we were sisters. Once, we built snowmen in the ballroom and ran, laughing, down the halls. Every time I sing to Anna, I am reminded, and I am happy. 

“Do you wanna build a snowman?”


End file.
